Chuck's future, an alternate ending
by katolou
Summary: When Chuck is brave enough to attempt to leave the Island, he enters a world previously known but completely shocking.
1. Chapter 1: The adventure begins

p class="MsoNormal"Rain pelted the green plastic roof. The never ending roller coaster of waves shake the loose pile of sticks and bamboo that is held together by rolls of ancient film from VHS tapes. Wilson clings to the side, sitting in a nest of leftover rope and hefty wood. Chuck whimpers, his sunken in eyes gaze upon the angry ocean. Slowly losing hope, he curls up and forces his eyes shut in an attempt to sleep. /p  
p class="MsoNormal"Chuck is awakened by a small sprinkle. A splash too delicate to be made by any living thing. He stumbles awake and sees his companion drifting off in the distance. Chuck opens his parched mouth and somehow forces out a nearly inaudible call for his best friend. He then plummets into the violent waters. His weak bones protrude from his already skinny body. Water pulls at his flabby arms while he attempts to swim. Wilson drifts farther and farther, tears trickle down chuck's red cheeks. Chuck knows he must stop, soon his fragile body will give out. He returns to the depressed raft. He has failed. He has lost his best friend./p  
p class="MsoNormal""Bruce, what the hell is that?!" Shouted the fisherman wearing a wine red hat. Bruce scurries over to the edge of their ship and see a very bizarre volleyball./p  
p class="MsoNormal""Should we pick it up Martin?" questioned Bruce. He was wearing overalls, with only one strap intact. The other strap dangled at his side due to a missing button./p  
p class="MsoNormal"The men collectively agreed to scoop up the haired volleyball./p  
p class="MsoNormal""We must be careful, this thing looks like some sort of voodoo." Martin exclaimed. "I'm pretty sure this was part of a sacrifice! Look at all this blood!"/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Martin takes the bloody volleyball and places it in the woven basket in the corner./p  
p class="MsoNormal""I'm slightly spooked Martin, what if that thing is possessed" Bruce choked out./p  
p class="MsoNormal""Don't be such a baby, Get back to work" Martin scorned./p  
p class="MsoNormal" Chuck's glazed eyes stared at the sky. His unchanging face, mimicked a lawn gnome. Plastic and permanent. Chuck picked up one of the few remaining coconuts. The sweet freshwater tickled his parched mouth. He was able to bottle up enough coconuts to last him a month. However, the storm engulfed most of his resources. Chuck casts out his net. His stomach moaned and begged for sustenance. He had little water and no food. Perhaps he would be happier with taking his last breath and ending it all. Suddenly, there was a tug. Chuck raised up the net to find one small fish thrashing about in his net. He had done it! Finally, a meal. Chuck snagged the empty coconut and smashed in the head of the small fish. Blood splattered as the mangled heap of meat slowly lost life and relaxed into a silent, lifeless handful of slop. He bit into the flesh. /p  
p class="MsoNormal" /p 


	2. Chapter 2: The Encounter

Martin was busy chucking fish across the deck.

"I think we've got ourselves a nice catch." Martin cheered.

"One more day and I think we can start heading for shore again." Said Bruce.

"I can't wait to get off this….Hey! What is that over there?" Martin Shouted.

The men raced to the bow and peered into the water. To their surprise, there was a man. A sickly, beardy, skinny old man just resting on a pile of woven sticks.

"Hey you over there!" The Men shouted.

Chuck's lifeless body began to move. He sat up. His pale face was frozen. Astonished.

The men paddled up to Chuck's raft and threw him a life ring. Chuck then sat on the ring as if it were a pool toy from his childhood. The men pulled him aboard. Along with a strange UPS package the man insisted on bringing aboard.

"How the hell did you get out here?" Martin sassed.

Chuck's sunken face fell towards the ground. He dropped his package. Chuck stumbled forward, backward, forward and then finally collapsed on deck. The boat swayed from side to side. Martin brought water and a stack of saltines. Chuck dragged his body off the ground and took a sip of the crisp water. Never had anything tasted so pure to him in his life. He bit into the cracker, almost forgetting how to savor the salty taste. At last he was rescued. There was hope, for him at least. He has been without his best friend for what has seemed like years. Too bad Wilson wasn't around to celebrate. Chuck continued to nibble on his cracker like a tiny hamster.

Martin and Bruce went back to work, pulling in nets of precious fish. Chuck stumbled over to the side and began to rest on top of what seemed to be a woven basket. He set the package down next to him.

"You never answered my question. Who are you and how did you get out in the middle of the fucking ocean?" Martin demanded.

Chuck's ears had gone so long without hearing another human's voice he didn't quite know how to respond. He opened his mouth only to have gibberish escape. The fishermen were startled.

"We need to travel back to shore" Bruce nervously said.

Martin nodded his head and the men set off to shore.


	3. Chapter 3: Final Goodbye

When the men arrived at the dock, they immediately dialed for the paramedics. Chuck, who was still in a dazed state, stood up from the woven basket. He took one step and then tumbled down like a drunken old man. Fishing gear flew everywhere. Chuck felt terrible. These men had saved him, he was going to leave and had made a huge mess.

"Don't worry about it man, you're Ill. Take a rest." Bruce stated.

"I am not leaving you with a mess." Chuck choked out.

Chuck's face lit up upon the realization that he just communicated with another human. He hadn't accomplished this in years. He thought that maybe there was hope for a normal life. Chuck began collecting the spilled fishing poles and lined them up against the wall. Bruce and Martin were getting annoyed, but grateful for the extra help.

"Hey, what's your name again?" Martin questioned.

"My name is Chuck. I've been lost for a long time now." He replied.

"What do you mean lost?" Bruce snapped.

"I have been stranded on an island with my friend Wilson for around eleven years."

The color drained from Bruce and Martin's faces. Never had they expected this response.

"How did you get on an island?" Martin questioned.

"I worked for Fedex for years, the plane crash landed in the ocean." I was the only survivor.

"That doesn't make sense. I thought you had a friend. Was the Island inhabited?" Bruce stated.

"Yes, I did have a friend, Wilson. We were the only ones on the island." Chuck sighed.

"I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure Wilson was a good man, he'd be proud of you for getting this far." Bruce said softly.

Chuck and the men continued to pick up dropped supplies, still waiting on the paramedics.

"Where should I put these sinkers?" Chuck questioned.

"Over there, in that thing." Martin pointed.

"Where?" Chuck said in confusion.

"That container or something in the corner." Martin replied.

Chuck walked over to a woven basket. Was this what Martin was referring to. Chuck hadn't been reintroduced to society a day and already was confused. He reached for the lid of the basket and calmly slid it off. There was some strange straw-like material emerging at the surface. Chuck must have had the wrong bin. There was no room for sinkers in here. He put the lid back down when he realized that the grassy bundle was the remains of his dear friend's hair.

"WILSON." Chuck screamed.

Martin and Bruce nearly fell over in fear. Never had they heard a grown man yell so loud. He really was mad. Maybe they should have left him on the raft. Chuck's face welled up, red with hot tears of Joy. He held up his beloved friend. Wilson's bloody face was smeared but that didn't make him any less loved. Chuck was once again reunited with his companion. Suddenly the ship lit up with lights of red and blue. The loud sirens pierced Chuck's ears. He hadn't missed that sound. Chuck departed Martin and Bruce's ship.

"I really have no words to describe my gratitude. You saved me. Thank you." Chuck stated while hugging Wilson.

He didn't even bother to question how the men found him. The only thing that mattered was that wherever Chuck would spend the night, Wilson would be by his side again.


	4. Chapter 4: Small World

-two years later-

Chuck's alarm clock buzzed on the freshly polished night stand. He reached over and slapped the clock silent. The sun shined through the big hotel window. Chicago really was beautiful in the morning. Chuck rolled out of his bed and dragged himself to the bathroom where he began his everyday routine: sleep, shower, get dressed, eat, and work. Wilson was perched in the corner. His face was permanently fixed with red paint. His body was still matted with dirt and use. Chuck went and got his daily coffee and began to read the newspaper. Everyday there seemed to be a shooting, worry in the economy, or some other depressing situation. Chuck often questioned if leaving the island was worth it. After all, his true love had moved on and has a family of her own. Chuck is plagued with rules, bills, and stress. His favorite part of life by far is his job. He has the privilege to travel the United States speaking to children and adults about his story. As a public speaker, Chuck has already earned many awards within his first year. If only he had someone to celebrate with. He didn't have a permanent home or many friends. Wilson was great but sometimes got on Chuck's nerves.

The elevator arrived at the ground floor. A beautiful fountain greeted everyone who entered. How easy it was to get water. Here people just used water for fun. Does anyone take a moment to appreciate their privileged life? Chuck walked through the wide revolving door and flagged down a bus.

"Fifty cents sir." The bus driver yelled. She was rather large. Her hair hung from one side and covered her eyes. How could one drive a bus looking like that Chuck thought to himself?

Chuck dropped the money in the collector and proceeded to find an empty seat. The only one surprisingly was next to a women, probably in her forties. She was beautiful. Her face was smooth and gentle. She had creamy brown eyes and brown hair. Her blazer suggested intelligence, her bright red shoes suggested fun. Chuck smiled as he took a seat next to this beautiful lady. She glanced up and smiled.

"Hello there." Chuck said smiling.

"Good Morning Sir." The women replied. "How are you this fine morning?"

"I'm mighty swell. Just off to work. You?"

"I am going to go hear a public speaker, he has an incredible story." The women replied.

"Oh really, I am not a fan of public speakers, often their stories are pity parties, too hard to believe." Chuck lied.

"Well, this story is too incredible to be made up."

"How do you know that? He could just be like the rest of them." Chuck questioned.

"I recently got a hand delivered package by that man. He arrived out of nowhere. He had kept it safe on his island the entire time. Other packages he had opened but not this one, it was specially marked. I never got to thank him for delivering it to me. I'm sure he's curious what it was." The women explained.

Chuck couldn't believe this was the same lady. It was true, all of what she had said. Chuck did question the package but decided to block it from his memory.

"I think I'll pass, enjoy the speech. Have a nice day." Chuck said rushing to get off of the bus. He had been startled, this wasn't even his stop.

Chuck walked two more blocks until he reached the beautiful lyric opera house. The massive doors stared him down. Chuck inhaled and exhaled. His life has become so normal, or so he thought. Does he know what it means to be normal? There's so many normal standards. This world was so big, he was so small. Although after today, it appears the world is smaller than it seems. He thought about that women. The surprise and joy she must have felt when she found the package. The joy was just enough to raise his drooping lips to form a smile. He pulled the large handle and walked into the lobby. What a day.


End file.
